


Dragons, Lions and Freaks

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Execution, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 10:30:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14830577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: The war is over, but blood is yet to be paid and dragons are yet to be fed.Jaime, Brienne, Tyrion and Cersei all prepare for the fallen Queen's final moments.





	Dragons, Lions and Freaks

“Perhaps I shouldn't go?” Brienne suggested, placing a tentative hand on Jaime's shoulder. “I could stay here with you,”

Jaime smiled tightly, grasping Brienne's hand in his and giving it a kiss. Rough lips on rough skin.

“You are needed there. It won't do for you to shun your first official duty,”

“I will have time to rectify that,” Brienne insisted, “If you need me here, then I will stay,”

“I always need you,” Jaime told her, running his calloused fingers along her knuckles, “But so does the Stormlands. They need their lady and they need her with the support of the Crown. You have already pissed off their Graces by marrying 'the Kingslayer'. The last thing you need to do now is spurn their summons,”

Brienne sighed and nodded. In truth, she had always known she would have to go. But seeing Jaime sat there, his white face slick with sweat and purple smudges painted beneath his bloodshot eyes, brought a raw ache in her stomach. She had no greater desire than to stay and hold him in the coming hours.

“Now,” Jaime said brusquely, standing up and running his eyes over Brienne, “Let's have a look of you. We can't have the Lady Paramount of the Stormlands turning up sloppily dressed,”

He braced his hand and stump on Brienne's shoulders and ran his eyes down her. He took in the blue and rose cloak that Lady Sansa had gifted Brienne when they were still on good terms, then the gold and silver brooch holding it in place, and down to polished leather boots.

He nodded. “Tolerable, you won't be shaming anyone today,”

“I will be back as soon as I can,” Brienne said, looking Jaime in the eye, “I won't leave you for long,”

Jaime nodded. “I know,” he assured her, “I know,”

“And tonight,” Brienne carried on, repeating the words that had become Jaime's mantra since the judgement was passed, “It will all be over,”

“It will all be over,” Jaime echoed, a bitter smile dimpling his cheeks, “More for some than others,”

He ducked away and strode to the window, placing his remaining hand upon the pane. He gripped the wood tight, bitterly warring the growing tremors.

“It's a good crowd,” he noted flippantly, watching the chattering families stroll their way towards the Dragonpit. “Cersei will be pleased. She would have considered it a great dishonour for the day to have gone unnoticed,”

“I am surprised Queen Daenerys was willing to have made such a spectacle of it,” Brienne admitted, “She wanted to just burn her and be done with it,”

“The rabble need their blood,” Jaime shrugged, “Don't care whose, as long as it is a highborn's. And who can blame them, when so much of their own will be spilled?”

“Let us hope less blood will spill in the future,” Brienne prayed fervently.

“Now wouldn't that be nice,” Jaime mused, “Though just to be on the safe side, you will keep your guards close by,”

Brienne scowled but nodded, “As long as you keep yours,”

Jaime chuckled humourlessly. “Oh you can be sure of that. Even I am not foolhardy enough to think the Kingslayer can about these streets unobstructed. Especially on today of all days,”

“Good,” Brienne said shortly. She grasped Oathkeeper's hilt and straightened her shoulders.

“Time to go,” she said, moving to stride towards the door. She faltered and spun back, pulling Jaime into her arms and and allowing one more kiss. She left him standing in the middle of their room, his arms empty. Jaime watched from the window as Brienne rode away at the head of her train, Stormlands' soldiers diligently following behind.

Today, two of his lovers would enter the dragon's den. And if the god's were good, only one would return.

#

“So Jaime did not join you in the end?”

Lord Tyrion had waited patiently at the entrance of the Dragonpit. For his brother, no doubt, but Brienne was grateful to be welcomed by her goodbrother's kindly face.

“He thought it was for the best,”

Brienne cast an eye around the crumbling pit. Banners of all the Great Houses were fluttering gaily in the breeze above their daises, their joyous colours singing against a steel grey sky. Beneath them, lesser houses bore their banners. Tarth suns and moons had taken the place of the prancing Baratheon stag.

The people of the Stormlands had conveniently forgotten the days they had scorned and derided Brienne, whether it be due to her heroism in the Long Night or the fearsome Dragon Queen's support of her appointment. Which proved convenient when the truth of her marriage to Jaime came out.

The Starks had taken the news poorly, to say the least. For the sake of peace, they would not oppose her; Lady Sansa assured her, but any friendship once shared was gone forever.

Brienne fingered the embroidery of her cloak, presented to her on her appointment to Lady Paramount. She would not have worn it today, but she had nothing else suitable.

Lord Tyrion took his place on the dais next to Brienne's. His face and eyes carried the same harrowed look as Jaime, but as Queen's Hand and Lord of the Westerlands his presence was required.

“Spent all last night drinking with Bronn,” he admitted as they broke apart, “Sent him to Jaime so he can do the same,”

Brienne was not sure if she approved of Jaime drinking his problems away, but it seemed to be the patented Lannister coping method and Brienne could not think of a better alternative.

“My lady,” an Unsullied soldier cut through the crowds of Stormlands lords, “You have been summoned,”

“Where to?” Brienne demanded.

“Lady Cersei has been granted permission to speak with you. Queen Daenerys desires you meet with her swiftly so that the execution may get underway,”

Brienne shot Tyrion a befuddled look, who in turn was being addressed by a guard; before awkwardly stepping down and following the Unsullied guard. She was lead to a dank antechamber off from the main pit, where the lady of the day waited patiently for her final royal appearance.

Lady Cersei's hands were chained like a common criminal, as were her feet beneath her heavy leather skirts. Unsullied guards stood, faces passive beneath their helmets.

Brienne looked at her husband's past sister-lover, willing her to get on with this. Cersei looked back at her in turn, emerald eyes so like Jaime's and yet so different boring into her.

“So,” Lady Cersei said finally, “I get to see the Great Cow up close once more. I had wondered if my memory was faulty and you were not quite so freakish as I had thought. Alas I was wrong,” she turned to Tyrion, “What is it that our brother sees in this beast?”

“Considering they have been wed these weeks past,” Tyrion said jovially, “I'd say he has seen a bit of everything,”

“Queen Daenerys has requested we conduct our business quickly,” Brienne said, cutting through the Lannister bullshit, “If you have anything important to say then say it. If you summoned us here to make petty insults, then I will take my leave,”

“Now don't be so cruel sister,” Tyrion implored her, “Petty insults _are_ important. They are Cersei's greatest delight. Now that she has lost her crown and her children and lover. She will need something to console her as she makes her way to the grave,”

Cersei bared her teeth and smiled. “And you would know all about that, wouldn't you little brother? You had to keep you tongue sharp and wield it well, for the Gods know you could never wield a blade like a proper man,”

“And yet look at me now,” Tyrion stretched out his arms, “Lord of the Rock and Hand of the Queen!”

“Hand to a foreign whore,” Cersei snarled, “But then you always would settle for foreign whores, wouldn't you? You shower them with our family gold, dirtying it in your quest to be loved and make the most of anything they fling your way. At least until they find someone better,”

Tyrion's face turned pale. “Cersei,” he growled warningly.

“And then that is when you kill them. When you take their beautiful necks and squeeze the life out of them,” Cersei eyes shot to Brienne, “As I would have done with Jaime, given half the chance. Although it may very well have been a mercy killing. As it should have been. You may call him husband, but are spirits are joined. We are one half of two wholes,”

“Really?” Tyrion asked viscously, “Because judging from what you just said, it is you and I who are more alike than we would prefer. I am more your other half than Jaime ever was,”

“Liar!” Cersei hissed.

“You can protest all you want, tell yourself it is our handsome warrior brother who you would have been should you have been born with a cock. But it was me, all along. The twisted, deformed little imp,”

“You are wrong,” a voice cried out.

But it was not Cersei's.

“Tyrion, neither you nor Jaime are like your sister,” Brienne declared, grabbing his shoulders, “For all your faults, I have seen loyalty and love in both of you. True loyalty and love, selfless and brave. You are both willing to lay down your lives for the realm and for the lives of men. I see none of that in Lady Cersei,” Brienne turned to the fallen queen, “Aye, your brothers have cruelty in them. And anger and bitterness, same as any man. But I look into your eyes and see nothing but an abyss. You are nought but a hate filled, spiteful woman who will go to her grave having known nothing of the true joys in this world. Friendship, kindness. Love. You know nothing. You will die knowing nothing,”

Cersei's lips thinned and she tilted her chin up, so that Brienne could see the taint of fear in those emerald eyes.

“Well then,” Cersei smirked, “Enjoy knowing my brother's love, if you truly believe it to be yours,”

Brienne bowed. “And enjoy knowing the dragon's flames your Grace,” Brienne reciprocated politely, “For they are sure to be yours,”

“And on that note,” Tyrion beamed, “I believe it is time Lady Brienne and I return to our seats. No doubt you shall be summoned shortly, sweet sister,”

And as though waiting on his word, the bells pealed.

“Well then,” Tyrion purred, “I believe that is your cue,” he reached out and patted her arm, “Hurry along now, you don't want to keep the dragon waiting,”

“Don't Tyrion,” Brienne ordered, starting to feel quite sickened as the jeers of the crowd reached her ears, “You are better than that. Lady Cersei,” she addressed her goodsister, “I pray for your soul,”

And with that, she turned her back and left.

Later, as she and Jaime cradled each other in their arms, Jaime whispered into her hair, asking her what happened.

Brienne thought on the cries of the crowd, the shit thrown at his dead sister as she tried to walk with dignity to the stake which she was presently tied to. She thought of how Cersei fought to keep her face impassive as Queen Daenerys read out a list of crimes longer than her own list of of titles, and how Brienne had to close her eyes when the fire was finally breathed forth. She thought of how the crowd stamped their feet and cheered so that the very Dragon Pit seemed to shake, all melting into one nameless creature thriving on rage and vengeance.

She thought of how some whispered that right as the dragon opened it's mouth, Lady Cersei had started weeping and begging, whilst others still claimed that she pissed herself on looking into the great beast's yellow eyes.

“Quick,” Brienne said at last, “It was quick,”

Jaime nodded and buried his head into her pale hair, trusting her strong arms to keep him warm as he drifted into sleep.

 


End file.
